


Little Do I Know (How I Make Your Heart Go)

by haroldslouis



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Patrick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 17:00:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7649110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haroldslouis/pseuds/haroldslouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick makes a habit out of underestimating Jonny's feelings for him, until Jonny literally spells it out for him.</p><p>Featuring romantic getaways, hockey fights, unconsciously moving in together, and morning sex. Not in that order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Do I Know (How I Make Your Heart Go)

**Author's Note:**

> if you want to blame this fic on anyone, blame [obviouslylinked](http://www.obviouslylinked.tumblr.com) for giving me so many headcanons that i just had to put them into actual fic
> 
> ps: this was intented as something cute and fluffy.... i have no idea how the sex worked its way in there, it just *clenches fist* did

It happens in a split second. Patrick can barely realize what’s going on as his breath is knocked out of his lungs from behind.

He hits the ice, hard, cold, and unforgiving. A sharp crack of pain goes through his right arm, and he shifts a little, taking his weight off of his shoulder. His head throbs and he hears the noise of the crowd as he clutches at the sides of his helmet. He stares at the jumbotron above his head, his vision blurry.

One of the guys helps him up, and Patrick focuses on staying upright. Blinking a few times, his sight clears. His right side aches and his head throbs angrily, but other than that, he’s okay.

He turns around, ready to signal to the refs that he can go on, but he doesn’t get that far.

The crowd roars as Jonny drops his gloves, and Patrick can hear the clatter of his stick hitting the ice.

What does Jonny think he’s doing? Yes, it was a hard check, out of line, but he’s _fine_. Honestly, Patrick’s dealt with more brutal checks than that.

But Jonny absolutely throws himself into it, while Hanzal gets in a few hits against Jonny’s sides that make Patrick wince. The crowd is loving it, Captain Jonathan Toews’ first NHL fight, and he immediately goes all out. Patrick just wants to whack Jonny against the back of his head. And ignore the fact that his body thinks Jonny fighting is a huge turn on.

“Damn, you’ve got your bodyguard looking out for you,” Doan says, standing next to Patrick, watching the fight unfold in front of them. “Never thought Tazer had it in him.”

Patrick frowns, tensing a little. “He’s not my bodyguard.”

Doan raises his eyebrows as Jonny tackles Hanzal to the ice, getting him flat on his back. Patrick can hear the crack of Hanzal’s helmet as it hits the ice. “Well, he’s got fire,” Doan adds, grinning like it’s all very amusing to him.

“Yeah, but no fucking skill,” Patrick says, shaking his head as the refs pull Jonny off of Hanzal. He stares at the splatters of blood on the ice, not noticing Hanzal skating past him towards the penalty box. He stares at Jonny, who’s bleeding from his nose, a part of his face smeared with blood. Patrick bites his lip, looking away before his body starts betraying him during a game.  

 

They end up winning the game three goals to two, Jonny netting the winning goal. The locker room is busy, the beat reporters huddling around a few stalls. PR beckons him over to his own stall, a few reporters already gathered there. Patrick holds up his hand, making his way over towards Jonny’s stall.

“What the hell was that about?” he asks, taking off his gloves.

Jonny looks up, pressing an ice pack against his cheekbone. “What?” he asks.  

Patrick makes an impatient noise. “You fighting Hanzal! Jesus, Jonny, you tell me and the guys all the time to be responsible on the ice, and then you go and fight him.”

“He hurt you,” is all Jonny says, not meeting Patrick’s eyes as he swaps the watery ice pack with a new one. His cheekbone is bruised and Patrick wants to press his fingers against it, wants to know if Jonny would hiss and bite his lower lip.  

“So?” Patrick frowns, “I was fine, Jonny, I got up right after, and you still dropped your gloves.”

“Listen, Kaner,” Jonny looks up, his cheeks red and flushed from the game, his eyes bright. “Maybe I shouldn’t have punched Hanzal, but I wasn’t gonna let him get away with pushing you around. He was at it the entire game, and he only stopped after he got the penalty. Who knows what he could’ve done if I hadn’t put a stop to it, huh?”

Patrick sighs, his hands fiddling with his damp jersey. “Okay,” he concedes, “But--”

“Let it go, Pat,” Jonny says, standing up. He starts taking his under armor off. “It happened, we still won, and next time Hanzal better think twice before going after you again.”

“Or what? You’ll tackle him to the ice again?” Patrick asks, sarcastically.

“I might, yeah,” Jonny says, ripping the velcro on his chest loose.

Patrick tears his eyes away from the sight of Jonny’s nipples through the thin fabric of the undershirt. He sighs, chuckling softly. “I don’t know why I even try,” he says, holding up his hands and walking back towards his own stall.

If Jonny wants to become Captain Goon and punch every player who ever hits him, then he’ll be at it all the time. It’s not Patrick’s fault if Jonny ends up in the penalty box every game. It’s obvious there’s no way of talking Jonny down from… protecting him, or whatever he thinks he’s doing.

Patrick makes his way back towards his own stall, but Seabs grabs him by the shoulder before he can get there. Patrick winces, shrugging Seabs’ hands off. “Present from Hanzal,” he says, in lieu of an explanation.

Seabs nods. “That was what I was going to talk to you about.”

“What’s there to talk about? He’s a dick.”

“No,” Seabs says, “It’s about Jonny.”

Patricks rolls his eyes. “Hey, he’s your rookie. Maybe you can talk some sense into him, because I sure as hell can’t. He doesn’t want to listen to me, even though I’m obviously right.”

Seabs lets out a breathy laugh. “Obviously,” he repeats mockingly. “But I’m serious, Pat, go easy on him.”

Patrick frowns, confused. “Go easy on him? What, because his face and pride are bruised?”

“No, because it’s Jonny. You know why he went after Hanzal for you, don’t you?”

“Because he’s a dimwit who doesn’t know how to pick the right battles?”

“Jesus… It’s like talking to a toddler,” Seabs sighs, “No, what I mean is that Jonny fought this guy for you, and whether you think it was a stupid decision or not doesn’t matter. Just appreciate the gesture, man. It’s not wining and dining, but still, it says something.”

“Yeah,” Patrick nods. “It says that Jonny is an idiot.”

 

He does end up going home with Jonny, after all the post-game press is over and the United Center turns off its bright lights. Jonny insisted on driving, still worried about Patrick’s head, and Patrick lets him because Seabs told him to go easy on Jonny.

Because this is apparently what Jonny needs, a little space to take care of Patrick, to calm himself back down again.

Patrick lets his head rest against the window, his breath fogging up the glass slightly.

Every once in awhile he looks over at Jonny. Underneath the passing lights he sees the bruise on Jonny’s cheekbone settle into a shade of purple. Again he feels that need to reach over, trail his fingers along the dip below Jonny’s cheekbone, ask him if it hurts.

He doesn’t, though, instead just asks: “Hey, remember when you beat up a guy for me and got your ass handed to you?”

Jonny shoves him gently, a smile playing around his lips.

Patrick wants him so much, but he tears his eyes away and wills himself to stop wanting what he can’t have.

 

**ii.**

“There’s a Batman marathon on tomorrow, anyone game?” Patrick asks, taking a large sip from his beer. His fingers are cold around the damp glass, his scarf still tightly wound around his neck.

The team just smashed the Stars, and they’re out celebrating in one of their favorite bars. Sharpy sinks down in the seat next to Patrick, putting his drink down and also shrugging off his coat. Snowflakes trickle down to the floor.

“Sorry, Peeks,” Sharpy says, immediately getting his hands on a coaster and trying to pull it apart by the edges. “I’m taking Abby to the Swan Lake Ballet tomorrow night. She’s been dying to see it, so I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be in her good graces the next month or so.”

Patrick doesn’t look impressed. “Good luck with that.” He turns towards the others. “Guys?”

All of them shake their heads, piping up with excuses about taking their wives or girlfriends on a special date. Patrick starts frowning, ready to open his mouth, but Jonny enters their booth in a flurry of cold air.

“Hey guys! Sorry I’m late. Traffic was crazy down 18th Street,” he says, taking his beanie off of his head. He moves around the table, forcefully wedging himself in between Shawzy and Patrick. He rests his arm on the backrest over Patrick’s shoulders. “What’d I miss?”

“Apparently,” Patrick starts, turning his head so his temple leans against Jonny’s shoulder, “None of our teammates like me anymore.”

“That’s not news,” Jonny says, “Ow!”

Patrick gives him a sweet smile, gently rubbing Jonny’s side where he jabbed his elbow against. “Fuck off.”

“Okay, okay,” Jonny grins, “I’ll bite. Why don’t they like you anymore?”

“I don’t know,” Patrick lets out a long-suffering sigh. “But there’s a Batman marathon on TV tomorrow and none of them want to come over to see it.”

Jonny looks offended, and gives their teammates a glare. “That’s not really nice, guys.”

“It’s _Valentine’s Day_ ,” Sharpy says, “Abby loves Pat to death but I don’t think she’ll appreciate me ditching her for Batman movies Pat has made us watch ten times already.”

“Eight,” Patrick mumbles.

“Anyway,” Sharpy says, “We’ve all got plans with our girls. I mean, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do,” Jonny replies.

“You do?” Patrick’s face falls even further. He’s let go of any hope that Jonny will ever feel more for him than just a friend, but it still stings.

“Yeah,” Jonny says, giving Patrick a bright smile. “You and I are going to watch that Batman marathon ‘til three in the morning or something.”

Patrick beams, and something in his chest loosens. “Fuck yeah, we are.”

They smile at each other stupidly for a few seconds, until they notice the silence that’s fallen around the table. Patrick is the first one to notice.

“What?” he asks.

“Let me get this right,” Duncs says, very slowly. “You two are going to watch Batman movies on Valentine’s Day, even though you’ve seen them countless times already?”

“Patrick likes them, okay?” Jonny says, defensively. “And we haven’t seen them countless times, we’ve seen them eight times.”

“I thought that was only Patrick,” Kruger pipes up.

“Yes,” Jonny nods. “And I was there, too.”

“ _Each time?_ ” Sharpy asks, eyes disbelieving.

“You always notice something new,” Jonny says solemnly.

 

The following night Jonny shows up at Patrick’s doorstep with a packet of microwaveable popcorn and a bottle of champagne.

“Awesome,” Patrick grins, taking the bottle from Jonny’s hands and ushering him inside. “You’re totally right, Batman deserves expensive champagne and not our usual shitty beer.”

He pours the champagne into the long champagne flutes he got from his grandparents a few years ago. It’s probably the first time he uses them, he realizes. Jonny always gets out the little class he has, anyway.

“Do you know where my plastic bowls are?” Patrick asks, folding the popcorn packet open and putting it in the microwave.

“Yeah,” Jonny says, from where he’s sitting on the high chair by the kitchen island. He’s reading an article about the Hawks in the Tribune. “I put those in the bottom left cabinet. They kept getting dusty on the shelf.”

“Aw, you nearly sounded like a fully functioning adult there,” Patrick grins, bending down to reach the bowl in the cabinet. When he turns back around, Jonny’s eyes quickly flash upwards towards the kitchen cabinets.

“Everyone is a fully functioning adult compared to you,” Jonny says.

 

They end up settling on the couch with their low-fat, no-butter popcorn and after some minimal complaining from Patrick and some gentle admonishments from Jonny, they sink down into the cushions to start the marathon.

Patrick likes Batman Forever the most, his eyes gleaming during the best action scenes. Jonny’s favorite is the Dark Knight, and Patrick smiles as Jonny tells him little facts and trivia about the movie and the making-off, even though he’s heard them from Jonny before.

Near the end of the Dark Knight, the apartment starts to feel a little chilly and the frost against the windows outside grows whiter.

“I’m cold,” Patrick says, rubbing his arms. He’s been leaning against Jonny for a while and he wants to curl up in his warmth, but it’s not enough to keep the cold shivers at bay.

“I got it,” Jonny says, gently standing up from the couch in attempt not to jostle Patrick too much. He walks over towards the pad next to the front door, adjusting the temperature.

Patrick startles when Jonny pulls his beanie over his ears. “Thanks,” he says, adjusting it a little on his short curls.

Jonny sinks back down into the couch and raises his arms a bit to let Patrick settle against him again. “Better?” he asks.

“Yeah. You did miss the big face reveal for Harvey Dent, though.”

“Or rather the not-face reveal,” Jonny remarks.

Patrick chuckles. “Nerd.”

The movie finishes with Batman flying away into the dark, and Patrick lets out a yawn. “We can watch the other one in my room? I’m not going to let you allow me to fall asleep on the couch again. My back still hates you for that, you know. I’m not twenty anymore.”

“But Peeks, you looked so cute,” Jonny cooes, and catches the pillow Patrick hurls at him. “Now, now, don’t get violent old man. You’re not twenty anymore.”

“You’re older than me fuckface,” Patrick retorts, bumping his shoulder against Jonny’s. “Now come with me or you get to watch the movie from the floor.”

“I’ve slept on that floor, and it’s not so bad,” Jonny says, as he follows Patrick into his bedroom, careful not to step on Patrick’s blanket cape.

“I didn’t make you, you were too drunk to stop yourself from falling off the bed,” Patrick says, climbing onto his bed. It always makes Jonny grin because the bed is pretty high above the floor and Patrick always has to hop to get on.

“And you were too much of an asshole to pick me up again,” Jonny says, getting onto the bed as well. He settles against the headboard, a few pillows in his back.

Patrick sits back hard against his chest on purpose, Jonny letting out a small ‘oof’. Patrick wiggles his shoulder against Jonny’s, his fingers jabbing on the buttons of the remote. “Stop poking me with your knobbly shoulder,” he says, taking Jonny’s wrist and lifting it up over his head so he can settle underneath Jonny’s arm. .

“You’re pretty high maintenance, you know that?” Jonny says, hiding his fond smile away from Patrick’s eyes.

“Whatever, you love me.”

“I love Batman,” Jonny says, looking at the opening logos on the screen.

“Good,” Patrick smiles, letting his head fall back against Jonny’s bicep. “Then maybe you’ll finally be able to stay awake during the last movie.”

 

**iii.**

 

 _remember when we signed new contracts and got a shit ton of money,_ Patrick sends to Jonny during the third week of the off season. He’ll never admit it out loud, but he misses Jonny. Not just the focus Jonny brings into his life, in the way of hockey and being a supportive and demanding captain, but also as his best friend. He’s done a few promotional gigs with children, like showing up at a few hockey camps, and they’re great fun. But, it’s just that he wishes he could do them with Jonny. Jonny’s eyes always go stupidly crinkley when there’s kids around. Patrick likes that.

 _Yeah I do,_ comes Jonny’s reply after a few minutes. _Why? Suddenly decided you do want to earn more than me?_

Patrick rolls his eyes, hearing Jonny’s challenging and sarcastic tone in his head. _maybe but the money wont be for me, but for my sisters._

He hears the doors of a car slam shut outside, indicating that his sisters have come back from the mall.

 _That’s sweet of you,_ Jonny’s reply comes with a buzz of his phone that startles Patrick.

He rolls his eyes, grinning down at the screen. _its not sweet theyre bleeding me dry with all their shopping_

“Pattycakes, we’re home!” Erica yells, opening the front door. “We got you presents!”

“For the last time, they’re not presents if you bought them with my own money!” Patrick shouts back, but he’s smiling. He can see Jess practically skipping through the front lawn with her bags swooshing along her sides.

 _If you didnt spend money on them they’ll leak your embarrassing childhood pictures._ The corners of Patrick’s mouth pull up even higher at Jonny’s response.

“Come check out what we got you!” Erica calls from the living room, and Patrick hears the rustling of paper and plastic bags being dropped down onto the couch.

“Coming,” he says, typing out a last message to Jonny. _u got time for a call tonite?_

Jonny’s reply comes as Patrick’s sat down onto the couch, amidst all the shopping bags. _Always, call me whenever._

“Stop smiling like a lovesick idiot, Pat, Jonny isn’t here to see it and neither are we,” Jackie says, dropping a bag into Patrick’s lap. “You’ve spoken to him last night, for God’s sake, and it’s morning. What could you’ve possibly got to tell him?”

Patrick ignores Jackie’s teasing, opening the bag and taking out a wrapped package. It feels soft underneath the shiny paper. “Aw, you shouldn’t have,” he cooes sweetly, tearing the paper. It’s a sheepswool blanket, and he grins. “Thanks, I needed a new one after Sharpy spilled a drink over the old one a while back.”

“Yeah, we got you a sippy cup to give to him next time he comes over,” Erica grins, taking it out of a bag and tossing it at Patrick.

He catches it out of the air and laughs. His sisters are the best.

 

Jonny has to laugh as well when Patrick tells him the story later. His blood rushes south when he hears Jonny’s low laughter through the speaker of his phone. He jerked off last night after they ended their call, remembering Jonny’s voice, imagining him speaking filthy words into his ear. Patrick shifts a little on the bed, willing his body to calm down.

“God, I miss you,” he blurts out. He bites on his lower lip immediately after he says it, wondering if Jonny’s not going to take it seriously and laugh at him.

But Jonny doesn’t sound like he’s laughing when he replies softly: “Yeah, Peeks. Miss you, too.”

Patrick smiles, tracing the patterns on the duvet with his index-finger. “This break has just started and it already feels too damn long, man. It’s not like anything ever changes here in Buffalo, either. I’ve seen it all already.”

“Same here.”

“Yeah, duh,” Patrick rolls his eyes, knowing that even though Jonny can’t see, he’ll still know Patrick’s doing it. “It’s _Winterpeg_ , after all.”

“Shut up,” Jonny says, his laughter filtering through the speaker. “I was going to ask you how you felt about going to Prague in two weeks, but now I guess I won’t.”

Patrick sits up straight in bed. “ _Prague?_ Like, in Europe?”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Jonny deadpans.

“Shut up,” Patrick repeats Jonny’s earlier words. “Don’t they have weird money there? Like, not the Euro, either?”

“They’ve got the Czech Crown, yeah, and it’s not like you have to give a shit about the exchange rate anyway.”

“True,” Patrick says, rolling a fringe between his thumb and his index finger. “How’d you come up with the idea, anyway?”

“I was looking for a citytrip in Europe, and Prague’s apparently one of the best cities to visit. So, what do you say?” Maybe Patrick imagines it, but Jonny’s voice sounds oddly tight.

Patrick laughs. A vacation with Jonny is everything he needs right now. “I say get packing, let’s go.”

“Really?” Jonny asks, sounding happy and light. “Okay, I, erm, I’ll go make some arrangements and stuff, and send it to you in an email so you can check it.”

“I’m fine with whatever,” Patrick says, “Just don’t make us fly Economy because I can’t handle a flight across the Atlantic with you whining about your sore knees, just because you were too cheap to get us in Business class.”

“Yes, boss,” Jonny says, his grin resonating through the phone, making Patrick’s cheeks pink.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Patrick says, flush deepening. “You’re going to make me eat weird healthy green stuff, right?”

“Every day,” Jonny affirms resolutely. “It does mean you don’t have to cook, though.”

“I was sold already, but now I’m gone.”

“It’s gonna be great, Peeks.”

Patrick smiles at the picture on his dresser of him and Jonny holding the cup over their heads. “Yeah, it will.”

 

They end the call soon after that, Jonny already typing away at his computer. He walks out of his bedroom, heading towards his family outside.He sits down on a chair on the patio, watching the flames dance in the firepit. His mother pours him a glass of wine, and he slowly sips on it. Wine has never been his favorite, but he does like the warm feeling spreading through his chest.

Jackie’s roasting marshmallows and hands him one, laughing at him when he burns his fingers. “Careful, dummy.”

Patrick slowly eats the marshmallow, licking the sticky bits off of his fingers.

“How’s Jonny?” his father asks him. “Has his swing improved after he went to that trainer I recommended him?”

“I forgot to ask him, sorry,” Patrick says. “We were actually planning a trip to Europe.”

He catches the glances Erica, Jessica, and Jackie sneak at each other. “What?”

“Nothing,” Erica smiles. “Where are you two gonna go?”

“Prague. Maybe we’ll hit up Vienna on our way back. There’s this palace Jonny wants to see there.”

“Ah, the one from the Sissi movies,” his mother nods. “Your aunt Jeannette went there with Theo on their twentieth anniversary, she really liked it.”

Erica grins. “Twentieth anniversary, that means you and Jonny have got a long while to go, Pat.”

“Hilarious,” Patrick rolls his eyes. “I just hope Jonny listens to me and spends some extra money on Business class on the plane.”

“There’s nothing that boy doesn’t do for you,” Don Kane nods, swirling the whiskey around in his glass. “You gotta let him know you appreciate it every once in a while.”

“Of course I do,” Patrick says. “I already figured that I’m gonna pay for our meals. I’m not going to make him pay everything, that’s shitty.”

Erica rolls her eyes. “You know Jonny’s still gonna insists on paying everything, anyway, right?”

“He doesn’t have to do that,” Patrick says. “It’s just me.”

Erica laughs. “Yeah, that’s exactly why he does it, Pat.”

 

**iv.**

 

Patrick wakes up slowly, his eyelashes fluttering a bit before he opens his eyes. It’s early. Light is coming through the sheer white curtains, but it’s not bright enough for it to be late in the morning already. Despite the jetlag both he and Jonny were struggling with earlier, he’s feeling okay. He lets his eyes droop again, turning his head a little. Jonny’s arm is underneath his neck, and Patrick lets his cheek rest on Jonny’s bicep.

Jonny’s other arm is slung close around Patrick’s waist, fingers tangled in the hem of the thin shirt Patrick’s wearing. His breath is slow and even, face buried against Patrick’s neck.

Patrick lets out a deep sigh, smiling a little. He’s been loving every second of their trip to Prague so far. It’s as if from the second they touched down on European soil, Jonny’s been more open, more deliberate. He kept his hand at the small of Patrick’s back when they checked in at the reception of their hotel, and he smiled at Patrick across the little table on the sidewalk near a small bistro. He’s been ordering Patrick’s breakfast for him through room service, and he keeps a steady hand at the base of Patrick’s neck when they’re out sightseeing.

Patrick loves it, absolutely loves it when Jonny gets like this. He basks in the attention Jonny gives him, the way Jonny seems focused on him and nothing else. Jonny’s been like this back in Chicago as well, but it seems more subdued when they’re at home. At home, they’re busy with hockey and Jonny’s attention is divided. But here, it’s just the two of them, and Patrick never wants it to end.

He knows it will, of course. When they get back to Chicago they’ll transfer back into that normal category of friends and teammates, both working their asses off for a goal bigger than themselves. But right now, there’s nothing bigger, nothing to strive for. It’s just him and Jonny.

Jonny’s curled up tight against him, as if he never wants to let Patrick go. If his hand slips any lower on Patrick’s stomach, he’ll feel the effect he has on Patrick.

Clearing his throat softly, Patrick tries to shift away a bit but Jonny tenses and pulls him back in, even closer. Patrick’s ass is now flush against Jonny’s hips and warmth breaks out all over his body when he feels the weight of Jonny’s erection against the top of his ass.

His hips move back instinctively, and a whimper leaves his lips when he can feel the shape of Jonny’s cock against him.

The heat builds up underneath the blanket and Patrick’s breathing harder. Fuck, it’s so wrong but Jonny feels so good behind him, strong and big. Patrick turns his head again, pressing his lips against the curve of Jonny’s bicep. He flexes his hips again, feeling the warm slide of Jonny’s cock. Jonny’s big, his cock standing up and moving perfectly against Patrick’s ass.

Patrick bites on his lower lip, trying to muffle the soft whimpers. He can’t control himself, and as he moves his hips once more, Jonny angles his hips up as well, and Patrick can feel the heavy weight of Jonny’s balls against his ass.

He can’t keep his moan in, breathing it out against Jonny’s arm. Jonny stirs behind him, waking up fully, and Patrick stills immediately.

A mortifying shame pulls over his body and he squeezes his eyes shut tight. Any time now, Jonny will move away from him forcefully and Patrick doesn’t want to see it. His heart sinks low in his chest and he can feel a knot forming in his stomach.

“Jesus, Peeks,” Jonny groans in Patrick’s ear, his voice rough from sleep. His arm tightens around Patrick’s waist and he pushes his hips against Patrick’s. “Way to fucking wake me up.”

A rush of relief and arousal goes through Patrick’s body and he doesn’t keep his whimpers in this time, pushing back against Jonny. He curves his back, pushing out his chest and his ass. Jonny’s hand spreads wide on his stomach.

“Jonny,” Patrick moans, trying to shift his hips so Jonny’s cock can slide against the dip between his ass cheeks. “I need…”

Jonny lets out a groan, his mouth attached to Patrick’s shoulder where the shirt has slipped away. “I got you, baby.” His hand moves from Patrick’s stomach to his lower back, and Jonny presses the pads of his fingers against the small of Patrick’s back. Patrick automatically curves his back even more, sticking his ass out. “Fuck, look at you, Pat, you’re asking for it,” Jonny mutters, voice tight.

“Jonny, c’mon,” Patrick whines, and that seems to snap Jonny out of his thoughts, because he pulls the hem of Patrick’s shirt up, and gets it over his head. He moves in closer again and takes Patrick’s earlobe in between his teeth. The gentle sucking with the teasing edge of sharp teeth makes Patrick’s toes curl, and he moves his hand down, cupping his hard dick.

“So needy,” Jonny says, moving his fingers down and tugging the waistband of Patrick’s briefs down his hips and thighs. Jonny pushes his cock against Patrick’s ass, still covered by the thin briefs he’s wearing himself.

Patrick lets out another whine. “ _Jonny_.” It’s meant to come out stern and demanding, but the name leaves his lips on a sigh.

He can feel Jonny’s cocky grin against his shoulder, loves how Jonny seems so strong and composed. The sheets rustle a bit as Jonny’s moving his hands.

The moan Patrick lets out when the head of Jonny’s fat dick smears precum across his ass cheeks is downright pornographic, and Jonny clamps his fingers over Patrick’s mouth as he starts moving his hips in sensual thrusts.

“Nghh,” Patrick grits out behind Jonny’s fingers, opening his lips to suck the digits into his mouth.

Jonny’s thrusts stutter, and he lets out a moan. “Jesus, Patrick.”

Patrick just moans around Jonny’s fingers, loving the feeling of something in his mouth while Jonny’s cock pushes against him from behind. Jonny’s other hand is moving across his stomach, squeezing and holding onto his hips briefly.

His hand slips lower, squeezing Patrick’s ass and holding him open so he can slide his cock through the cleft of Patrick’s ass, the head of his cock moving across Patrick’s hole.

Patrick lets his head drop back onto Jonny’s shoulder, one of his arms reaching up to hold Jonny by the back of his neck. He sucks on Jonny’s fingers in rhythm with Jonny’s thrusts, flexing his hips to push back against Jonny’s cock. His own bounces against his stomach as he moves, hard and sensitive.

“Fuck, Pat, want you so fucking much. Wanna see your face,” Jonny moans, he gently takes his fingers out of Patrick’s mouth before flipping them.

Patrick settles on top of Jonny, thighs spreading wide over Jonny’s. He feels open, exposed like this, but still so safe. Jonny’s watching him like Patrick’s the air that he breathes, and Patrick revels in it.

He takes Jonny’s hand gently by the wrist, and brings it up to his mouth. As he sucks three fingers back inside his mouth, Jonny lets out a moan, hips bucking underneath Patrick’s weight.

“You’re so fucking shameless, Peeks,” he breathes out. “Should see yourself like this, fuck, your lips and your eyes.”

Patrick moans around Jonny’s fingers, sucking harder as he starts moving his hips. Jonny’s dick slides between his cheeks, so hard and warm. He holds himself steady with one hand on Jonny’s chest.

He smiles around Jonny’s fingers, Jonny’s eyes following the movements of his hips, the flexing muscles in his thighs.

When he drags his eyes back up, meeting Patrick, he looks absolutely wrecked. He slides his fingers out of Patrick’s mouth, rubbing them wetly along Patrick’s cheekbone and tracing the bow of his lips.

“Kiss me,” he mutters, his hand sliding to the back of Patrick’s neck as he tugs him down.

Patrick goes easily, holding himself up by his elbows on either side of Jonny’s head. Their lips meet softly, tentatively, in contrast to the insistent pushing and pulling of their bodies earlier.

Jonny’s tongue is sliding along his lips and Patrick opens his mouth, lets him in to explore. Jonny’s tongue is warm, and it curls against Patrick’s in a way that makes Patrick lightheaded.

Jonny’s hand holds the back of his neck firmly, his fingers carding through Patrick’s hair, tugging on his mussed up curls every once in awhile. His other hand slips down Patrick’s back, moving to the front to hold onto his hips.

“You made me so hard, Peeks, you look so fucking pretty like this.” Jonny bucks up, sliding his cock against Patrick’s ass, and Patrick feels the head of Jonny’s cock nudging against his balls.

He looks down at Jonny, at his flushed cheeks, the drop of sweat dripping down his temple, the tensed muscles of his abdomen. He looks like he’s fucking sculpted, the veins in his arms prominent as he holds on tight to Patrick’s hips. There’s going to be bruises there soon, and Patrick bites down hard on his lower lip at the thought.

Jonny lets out a grunt. “Not gonna last much longer,” he gets out between his teeth.

Patrick leans down, flattening his body on top of Jonny, and he buries his head in Jonny’s neck.

“Come on, then,” he says, challengingly, lips moving against Jonny’s sweaty skin.

“Fuck,” Jonny sighs, moving his hips so their cocks line up, rubbing against each other. It goes easy, sweat and precome smoothening their frantic thrusts against each other.

Patrick groans, the head of his cock rubbing against the ridges of Jonny’s abs, and he can feel his toes and fingers go numb. He’s almost there, and by the way Jonny’s gripping and squeezing his ass, he is, too.

Jonny’s mouth is at the crook of his neck, teeth nipping at his skin with every movement of their bodies. Jonny’s hands slide across his ass cheeks, his fingers dipping low, pressing against Patrick’s perineum.

“Please,” Patrick lets out, voice broken. He doesn’t know what he’s asking for, but then Jonny lets his fingers dip in his cleft, rubbing against his hole. “Fuck, Jonny,” Patrick whines loudly.

Jonny bites down on Patrick’s shoulder, rubbing the pad of his thumb across Patrick’s hole. Patrick squeezes his eyes shut, his stomach clenching, and when Jonny’s thumb pushes on his hole, he comes hard between their stomachs, coating Jonny’s abs with his come.

He holds himself up just barely, feeling Jonny’s big cock rubbing against his own stomach, and he brings his head up. “Come on, baby,” he whispers against Jonny’s lips, still seeing stars at the edge of his vision.

Jonny’s hands slide upwards and he holds Patrick’s hips like a vice as he thrusts once, twice, and comes all over both of their bodies, his breathing coming out in sharp bursts.

Patrick lets his head drop back down in the crook of Jonny’s neck, gently pressing kisses against the heated skin. His legs stretch out, and Jonny wraps his arms tightly around his waist, keeping their bodies close together.

“You good?” Jonny whispers.

Patrick nods, bringing his head up briefly to kiss Jonny’s lips before letting it drop again.

They stay like that for a while, feeling the sun come up and warm their bodies through the windows. Jonny’s gently stroking through Patrick’s curls, the rhythm making Patrick lax and sleepy.

He slowly drags Jonny’s other hand back up and softly starts sucking on his index finger, feeling comfortable and safe in Jonny’s presence. Jonny’s other hand is still in Patrick’s hair, and he presses a long kiss against Patrick’s cheekbone.

“You look fucking beautiful, Pat.”

Patrick looks up through his lashes and smiles at Jonny around the fingers in his mouth. It makes Jonny chuckle softly, shaking his head in disbelief at the ceiling.

Eventually, Patrick lets go of Jonny and lets himself slide off the bed. He smiles as he walks over to the bathroom, feeling Jonny’s eyes on him.

His reflection in the mirror stares back at him, and Patrick’s frozen for a few seconds. He’s never seen himself like this, it’s as if every bit of tension has disappeared from his face and his body. He looks really fucking happy.

When he gets back in their room with a damp cloth, he makes his way back onto the bed and gently cleans Jonny’s stomach. Jonny’s propped up against the pillows, watching Patrick lazily and smiling at him.

“Such a gentleman. Are you buying me breakfast, too?” he asks, grinning after Patrick when he goes back in the bathroom to put the cloth in the laundry basket.

Patrick tosses the phone at him as he walks back to bed. He lets himself drop onto Jonny, laughing when Jonny lets out an exaggerated pained moan.

While Jonny is ordering their breakfast on the phone, Patrick reaches out towards his nightstand. He grabs the little tourist booklet with recommendations, and riffles through the pages.

He’s reading about the astronomical clock when Jonny hooks his chin over Patrick’s shoulder, tugging him close. “What’chu doing?” he asks.

“Trying to figure out what we’re going to do today,” Patrick answers, showing the page he’s reading to Jonny.

Jonny takes the booklet from Patrick’s hands and throws it back onto the nightstand. He flips them over so Patrick’s under him, and presses Patrick’s hands above his head. He shuffles down Patrick’s body a few inches and presses his lips against Patrick’s nipple. “If you think we’re leaving this bed to go outside today, then you’re mistaken,” he mutters, his hand deliberately sliding up Patrick’s thigh.

“Oh,” Patrick gasps, a little breathless. “O-okay.”

 

**v.**

Patrick is on the phone with the real estate agent, determining a time for their meeting, when Jonny gets back from the meeting with Stan and Coach Q. He smiles when Jonny comes up against him, arms around his waist and Jonny’s lips against his neck.

“Yes, that’d be perfect,” he says into the phone. “I’ll see you this afternoon, ma’am, thank you.”

“Who was that?” Jonny asks when Patrick ends the call, leaning against the kitchen counter. He plucks a grape and pops it into his mouth, his hand rubbing circles on the back of Patrick’s neck.

Patrick shrugs, looking around the apartment. “I’ve been looking for a new place. This just, I don’t know, it doesn’t really suit me, actually. We’ve spent so much time here over the summer, I hadn’t really noticed it before. I guess I’m just gonna look for something a little more.... Homely.” He looks at Jonny, wondering if Jonny’s going to laugh at that. Patrick Kane is looking for a home, it sounds ridiculous.

Jonny doesn’t look like he’s laughing at Patrick, though. He actually looks a little confused and offended. “You’ve been looking for a while now? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Dunno,” Patrick says. “It just didn’t come up. It’s not important, anyway, it might be months before I actually move to a different place.”

“Not important?” Jonny repeats. “Pat, of course it’s important. You should’ve told me, I could have helped you search for a place. You got a meeting this afternoon somewhere?”

Patrick nods. “Yeah, a house. It’s, um, twenty minutes’ drive from the UC. Do you really wanna help me find a place?”

A small huff leaves Jonny’s lips. “What kind of a question is that? Of course I do! We’ve been dating for a few months now, Pat, I can hardly tell my stuff in the closet apart from your stuff.” Jonny twists his lips a little, a smile playing at the corners. “Besides, I sleep over at your place like three times a week, I gotta know what I’m in for. If you’re gonna park that stupid car on the driveway then you can forget it, and you can fucking well come over to mine.”

Patrick chuckles, warmth blooming in his chest. Sometimes he still can’t believe he and Jonny actually made it here, and this far, too. At times, he still has that irrational need to prod Jonny awake at night and ask him: “You do like me, right?” Jonny’s always more than half-asleep but he never fails to grunt something along the lines of: “I just rimmed you for thirty minutes, Pat, why are you even awake right now.” And Patrick will stay silent, waiting a few more seconds for Jonny to say-- “Yes, idiot, of course I like you. Now come here, I wanna cuddle.” And then he’ll tug Patrick close under one arm and keep him trapped in his grip for the rest of the night. Those nights have quickly become Patrick’s favorite.

“Fine, idiot,” Patrick says, his flush and dimples betraying how pleased he actually is. “You can come with me, the meeting’s at four.”

“Thought so,” Jonny nods resolutely. “Now, come here.” He tugs Patrick close, arms sliding around his waist and cupping Patrick’s ass.

Patrick raises his eyebrows when he feels the swollen shape of Jonny’s cock against his thigh. “Someone’s excited. What’d you do at that meeting, watch porn?”

“Nah,” Jonny hums, kissing a line up Patrick’s throat, breathing warmly against Patrick’s ear. “This is still from this morning, when you were sprawled naked on top of the covers and I couldn’t do anything.”

“You shouldn’t plan those meetings so early then,” Patrick says breathily, curving his body into Jonny’s touch.

“Fuck, Peeks,” Jonny says, grinding his dick softly against Patrick’s thigh. “You were all bruised, your ass was still red. Even your hole was still slick, I could’ve just,” Jonny grunts, pushing his hips a little harder. “Slid home inside of you, and you would’ve opened up for me so prettily, like you always do.”

“Jonny,” Patrick whines. “If you want this to go somewhere then hurry the fuck up. I don’t want to be late for the meeting with the real estate agent.”

“Fucking demanding,” Jonny sighs, but his eyes are fond as he slowly extracts himself from Patrick. He tugs on Patrick’s hands and Patrick’s knees wobble a bit as he follows Jonny into his bedroom.

 

They arrive at the house three minutes early, and while Patrick checks his hair in the rearview mirror, Jonny’s staring at him from the side.

“What?” Patrick asks, when he notices. He checks his reflection again. “Is there something on my face?”

Jonny clicks off his seatbelt. “Only the expression that you’ve recently had your brains fucked out.”

Patrick gives Jonny a deadpan look. “Hilarious.” He gets out the car, Jonny grinning at him as he closes the door as well.

There’s already another car on the circular driveway, and as they walk up towards the front door, the real estate agent comes out of the house.

“Oh, good afternoon, Mr. Kane!” She smiles, holding her hand out. “I didn’t know you’d bring someone along, hello, my name is Katherine.” She shakes Jonny’s hand as well.

“Good afternoon, call me Patrick. This is Jonny,” Patrick smiles, looking back down the driveway and at the fountain. It’s not on, but Patrick likes the way it looks. “Looks impressive.”

“Yes, definitely,” Katherine nods, staring down at her tablet. “It’s one of the best houses we currently have on sale. The previous owners have recently renovated it, but the man had a stroke, so he and his wife had to move to an assisted living community.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Jonny says, staring up at the front of the house. “But it’s true, everything looks great. The windows were recently done?”

“You have a very fine eye!” Katherine chirps happily, turning around and gesturing at the windowsills. “All recently done, during the fall of last year, I believe, so they’ve been through a winter already and they’ve all held up perfectly. Mr. Kane, I do not assume you are planning to renovate a lot?”

Patrick lets out a soft laugh. “No, erm, not really.” He gently brushes his shoulder against Jonny’s. “We don’t really have the time, now that the season’s started already.”

Katherine nods, looking over at Jonny. “Oh, so you’ll be helping then? Or are you also in the market for a new estate?”

Jonny gives Patrick a quick glance, obviously weighing his options on what to say next. The team knows about them, noticed it immediately actually, which was a little embarrassing, but they’re not at that place to tell random strangers yet.

“I spend a lot of time with Patrick,” Jonny says instead, “You know, Kane and Toews, the dynamic duo, so I, uh, I gotta keep an eye on him.”

While Katherine laughs and heads into the house, Patrick just pulls a face at Jonny. “ _Kane and Toews, the dynamic duo_ , are you kidding me.”.

“Just go inside,” Jonny says, rolling his eyes.

 

Katherine gives them a tour of the house, showing the livingroom and the big kitchen. Jonny and Patrick nod, saying their ooh-and-ahs at the fancy kitchen appliances, even though they both know they will hardly ever use them. Upstairs, there’s a large master bedroom with two doors which open to the large balcony. There’s two smaller rooms, also with their own bathroom.

Patrick smiles when Jonny’s eyes light up as he sees the garden. It’s big, but not overwhelmingly so. There’s multiple old trees and a pond, giving the garden character. And near the back, next to the outbuilding, is a greenhouse.

“Pat, a greenhouse,” Jonny tells him, as if Patrick doesn’t have eyes for himself. His brown eyes are light and his smile nearly breaks off of his face. Patrick’s fingers twitch, he wants to reach out and hold Jonny’s hand before he threatens to float away.

“Yes, the greenhouse!” Katherine says, catching Jonny’s words. “The previous owners have cleared it out, but it’s still in excellent state. There’s sprinkler systems which work on timers that can also be activated from inside the house. If you plan to do something with the greenhouse, there’s a list of things that you will need to buy to get on your way, but it’s not that much.” She looks at Patrick. “Would you be interested in using the greenhouse?”

Patrick lets his tongue slip against his lower lip, watching over to where Jonny’s inspecting the greenhouse. He’s sliding his hand against the glass, enthusiastically checking the hold of the roof, its foundation on the grass, and the sprinkler slash temperature system.

He smiles. “Yeah, I am.”

 

**+one time jonny spelled it out for him**

 

They’re on separate teams for the All Star Game, and both of them are rattling off chirps like it’s the air that they’re breathing. Patrick is on a team with Malkin, who seems to be very amused by their behavior.

They’re talking on the ice, both of them leaning against the boards. As they’re coming up with a strategy for the accuracy test, the crowd suddenly livens up even more, shouting and clapping loudly. Patrick looks at Malkin, raising his eyebrows. “Did you get Sid to show up?”

Before Malkin can answer, Patrick notices the reason for the sudden uproar of the crowd.

Jonny just skated out onto the ice, a backwards snapback on his head, wearing the Chicago red. Patrick grins. Jonny does deserve so much enthusiasm and love.

“Ah, eh, Jonny lost bet?” Malkin asks him, gesturing towards the center of the ice where Jonny is skating eights.

Patrick looks at Malkin. “Huh? Not that I know of, why?”

“He’s wearing your jersey.”

Patrick whips his head back to the ice so fast he’s surprised he doesn’t get whiplash. And yes, there Jonny is, skating past the boards and flinging a few pucks over the glass. On his back, the 88 and Patrick’s name are plastered onto the fabric. Jonny catches Patrick looking from across the ice and sends a cocky grin his way. His eyes are intense as he meets Patrick’s.

Patrick lets out a breath. “Why do I even like him.” But his heart is beating against his ribs, and his fingers tingle warmly.

He watches as Jonny does the accuracy test, scoring pretty good. Afterwards, he’s talking to the journalists, joking about wearing Patrick’s jersey, praising the amazing crowd.

 

When they eventually get back home after the weekend, they’re both even more exhausted than they were before. Jonny’s nearly dead on his feet as he gets through the front door of his apartment. Patrick’s cleared out his apartment two weeks ago, and he’s been staying over at Jonny’s until the house is completely done.

“C’mon, bed,” Jonny mumbles, hugging Patrick from behind, his voice muffled by his lips in Patrick’s curls. He extracts himself from Patrick, tugging down the zipper of his vest, revealing the 88 on the back of his shirt.

“Jesus, I can’t believe you’re still wearing that,” Patrick says, his voice hitching a little when Jonny stretches his arms above his head. The fabric of the jersey rides up, tight around Jonny’s ass.

“Told the reporters I lost a bet,” Jonny yawns, toeing off his shoes and socks. His bare feet pad on the wooden floor as he walks over towards the bathroom. “Couldn’t suddenly show up in something else and have them question it again.”

They brush their teeth side by side, Patrick leaning against Jonny. “Still,” he says, after rinsing his mouth. “Why’d you do it in the first place?”

Jonny leans his hip against the sink, threading his fingers through his hair. He bends down a bit, kissing Patrick’s lips softly. “Because I wanted to. I don’t know,” Jonny shrugs a bit, eyelids drooping. “I liked the feeling, skating around with your name on my back, showing it to everyone. They didn’t get it of course, but you did. I just… I liked it, is all.”

“Fuck, Jonny,” Patrick lets his hand drop lower, cupping Jonny’s ass in his palm. “Fucking loved it. You looked so good out there.”

Jonny groans, fisting Patrick’s shirt and kissing him deeply. Patrick can feel Jonny’s hard dick against his hip, surprised at how turned on Jonny is by wearing Patrick’s jersey. He squeezes Jonny’s ass again, feeling the supple muscle underneath the palm of his hand.

“God, I wanna,” Jonny mutters, kissing down Patrick’s jaw. “So fucking tired, though.”

“I want to finger you,” Patrick tells him, “You can rub off on the sheets, okay?”

Jonny lets out an affirmative groan as if it’s been punched out of him, and he drags Patrick over to his bedroom. Patrick gives Jonny a little push, and Jonny lies down on his front easily, legs stretching out.

Patrick licks his lips, staring at his name and number on Jonny’s back. He crawls up the bed, tugging down Jonny’s shorts and boxers. “Fucking hell,” he sighs, planting his elbows on either side of Jonny’s hips and sucking a bruise on the pale skin of Jonny’s ass.

“Nngh, c’mon,” Jonny whispers, grinding his dick into the mattress.

“Impatient,” Patrick mutters after he’s pulled back, thumbing against the mark. His cock swells in his pants due to the moan Jonny lets out. He reaches out to the bedside cabinet and takes out the lube from the drawer.

He pours some over his fingers, warming them up before spreading Jonny’s ass cheeks with his other hand.

Jonny arches with a loud moan when Patrick sinks the first finger all the way inside. Patrick bites his lower lip, feeling Jonny’s tight walls around his finger. He sees Jonny’s hands already grabbing at the sheets, twisting them between his fingers.

Patrick starts moving his finger, gentle stabs inside, curling the pad of his finger against Jonny’s prostate every time he pulls out. It gets Jonny sweaty and whining real quick, and Patrick watches Jonny’s ass flex as he tries to grinds his dick against the bed. He squeezes his eyes shut as he feels his dick filling up even more, just the sight of Jonny shamelessly taking his pleasure incredibly turns him on.

“More, Peeks,” Jonny says, his lips red from where he’s been mouthing against the pillow. “Need to come so bad.”

“I know baby,” Patrick says, grabbing ahold of the jersey with one hand, bunching it up. He uses the pulling leverage to sink two fingers in, and tugging Jonny down with every thrust of his hand.

Jonny’s mouth has gone slack, groans slipping out whenever Patrick nails his prostate just right or pulls him down onto his fingers with a little force, filling Jonny up. Patrick uses his free hand to push up his jersey, revealing Jonny’s long back. A thin sheen of sweat covers Jonny’s skin and Patrick leans down on his elbows, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against Jonny’s ribs. The movement twists his fingers inside Jonny’s hole, and Jonny lets out a gutteral whine, arching his ass up into Patrick’s hand.

“There,” he gasps, eyes looking a little glazed over. There’s a flush high on his cheeks and Patrick leans up again, stretching out alongside Jonny’s body.

“There?” he grits out between his teeth, lips pressed against Jonny’s cheekbone. He twists his fingers again, loving the way Jonny simultaneously seems to want to curl away from him yet push his ass back for more.

Jonny turns his head, the corner of his mouth against Patrick’s lips. He can feel Jonny’s lips move when he says: “Fuck, Peeks, love you so much.”

“Jonny,” Patrick mutters, feeling as if someone’s just slammed him against the boards, breath leaving his lungs. “Shit… I love you, too, you know that right?”

“Know it better than you do,” Jonny breathes out, apparently still an annoying dick even if Patrick has his fingers up his ass.

“Shut up, you love telling me you love me,” Patrick grits out between his teeth, pushing a third finger in as punishment. Jonny goes speechless again.

Patrick relentlessly rubs the pads of two fingers across Jonny’s prostate, the other finger stretching Jonny wider. Jonny loves the feeling of his stretched hole, always pushing Patrick’s come back inside after they’ve both finished.

Jonny’s whines go higher and Patrick sees the muscles in Jonny’s back tense. “You close?” he asks, pushing his fingers in until his knuckles.

Jonny moves his head against the sheets, fingers white from where they’re clenched in the pillowcase.

“Ah, fuck!” Jonny groans, flexing his ass, and Patrick keeps his fingers pressed on Jonny’s prostate while Jonny comes. He lets go of his jersey to tug on Jonny’s cock, feeling the ropes of come cover his finger.

All the tension floats out of Jonny’s body as he completely moulds against the bed, shoulders going slack. Patrick licks Jonny’s come off of his index-finder, humming with the familiar taste of Jonny, _his_ Jonny.

“Do you want me to...?” Jonny murmurs, reaching up to roll over, but Patrick keeps him steady with a hand on his shoulder.

“No, it’s okay,” he says, tugging the waistband of his own training pants down his thighs. He pushes his boxers down, biting his lip as his cock springs free. He gets his clothing off, and sits on the back of Jonny’s thighs. “Wanna come all over your ass and that jersey, Jesus,” he gasps, fisting his cock.

“Patrick,” Jonny sighs, reaching his hands back and spreading his ass cheeks. Patrick looks down at Jonny’s shiny hole, dark pink around the edges from Patrick’s fingers.

A low sound escapes Patrick’s throat. “Fuck, Jonny, always look so fucking pretty. Your fucking ass…”

He’s been on edge for so long, he doesn’t need much more to flip him over the edge. His eyes switch between Jonny’s ass and his name on Jonny’s shoulders. Jonny’s hair is sweaty, the strands sticking against the back of his neck. He looks so fucking gorgeous, Patrick can’t believe his luck.

The telltale tightening in his abdomen tells him he’s nearly there, and he brings his own hand down. He widens Jonny’s opening with two fingers, and there, that’s it, he’s coming in thick spurts all over Jonny’s hole and ass. Jonny’s pushing his head into the pillow, licking his lips, and Patrick loves him so much.

“Fucking hell,” he sighs, moving off of Jonny with sluggish limbs, and collapsing next to him onto the bed. “I’m not standing up again.”

Jonny’s reply is muffled, but by the way he’s tugging a blanket off of the floor and haphazardly throwing it across their bodies, he’s not getting up either. Patrick lets his head rest on the pillow next to Jonny, always wanting to be close to him after sex. He wipes their bodies down with his discarded shirt.

It takes a while for this breathing to even out alongside Jonny’s, but when he gets there, he’s almost half asleep. Jonny’s resting his arm along his chest, his fingers sliding soft patterns against Patrick’s collarbone.

“Hey, Pat?”

“Hmm…?”

“Do you like me?”

Patrick makes sure to angle the shove of his elbow well.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**the end.**

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! feedback is lovingly drooled upon!
> 
> find me on [tumblr](http://www.lilpeekaboo.tumblr.com)♥


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